


A Cup-Full of Sugar

by All_InProcess



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining, Slow Build, Slow Burn, plus stress baker merlin just seemed right, there's going to be angst eventually probably because that's how things always go, who doesn't love a good college au?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 11:48:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13123107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/All_InProcess/pseuds/All_InProcess
Summary: There are a lot of benefits to living above an avid baker. Or, at least, that's what Harry is going to figure out. There's more than just having a flat that always smells like home-baked goods and being able to stop in every now and again to taste-test the newest recipe.Plus, what more could a college student want than to know someone who can make real food and not just order takeout?





	A Cup-Full of Sugar

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hepcatliz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hepcatliz/gifts).



> Hope you don't mind me starting a multi-chap for your stocking! I'm a sucker for young!Merlahad (and college AU's) and I really hope you enjoy the fic! ^.^

Harry was hunched over his laptop in bed, scrolling through another reading for his upcoming final. After a while he had to wonder if there could really be any more analysis to be done on books that were written _centuries_ ago, and why all these stuffy professors got paid to try and guess what was going on in the author’s head. He was certainly sick of trying to figure it out. You know what a twenty-year-old boy could’ve been doing on a Friday night instead of studying for a classic literature exam? Literally anything else in the world.

He pushed his hair back out of his face and forged on through another paragraph, not that he was retaining any information at that point. He took a deep breath in, suddenly jerking his head up. He sniffed the air, not sure if his mind was playing tricks on him because he hadn’t eaten since breakfast, or if his flat really was being filled with the scent of cookies.

He set his laptop aside and swung his legs off the bed. He heaved himself up and stretched his arms all the way down to his fingertips, not realizing how long he had been sitting in essentially the same position. His joints popped as he walked out of his room and into the open expanse of his flat. He felt more like he was eighty instead of twenty.

The complex that he lived in was fairly small, only a handful of apartments and most of them were occupied by other students. Not very many adults wanted to live in a building that was rented out to college kids a majority of the time, and Harry couldn’t blame them for that. Once exams were done the place would be a madhouse for a bit, but it’d calm down eventually. As he stood in the kitchen he realized that he didn’t _really_ know any of his neighbors. Sure, they passed and said hello, and he’d seen one or two of them around campus but none of them ever really hung out. They didn’t seem like they ran in the same social circles.

A few of them had all swapped numbers when they moved in, figuring it would be good in case of an emergency and just general news circulation about what was going on with the building and other tenants. He had the number of the two guys who lived in the flat to the right of him, the girl who lived in the flat directly beneath his, and one of the men also who lived down on the first floor of the building.

He scrolled through his contacts until he landed on Hamish’s name. He typed out a quick message, the first in months since the two of them didn’t really spend time together, _“The Great Bakeoff happening on down on your floor too?”_

A few minutes later Harry’s phone buzzed on the surface of the counter. He smiled as he read the message, _“Afraid that’s all me. Sorry. You can have some for your troubles if you want.”_

_“Really? (Not complaining in the first place but I won’t turn down food.)”_

_“Yea stop over.”_

That was all Harry needed to hear. Between his hunger and the promise of homemade baked goods, he couldn’t slow himself down as he slid into an old pair of sneakers, swiped his keys off the counter, and booked it down the hall and stairway until he landed himself outside Hamish’s apartment.

He tried to finger-brush his hair so he looked somewhat well-kept but in the back of his mind, he knew that his curls weren’t going to cooperate with that. He took a breath and knocked on the door. In the few moments between his knock and his neighbor answering Harry realized that he wasn’t dressed at all to actually see people. But it was too late to turn around now.

Once Hamish opened the door, though, Harry’s concern faded away. His friendly neighborhood baker was standing in front of him in an oversized t-shirt, a pair of old, ripped up jeans, and an apron. His hair was clinging for dear life to however he had styled it earlier in the day. There was flour, or something comparable, streaked on his one cheek and smudged on the lenses of his glasses. Between him, and Harry showing up in a pair of joggers and an old long-sleeve from his high school, the two of them made quite the pair. The epitome of university students during exam season.

“You wasted no time, eh?” there was a smirk of sorts on Hamish’s face as he stood on his side of the doorway.

“I can leave and come back again later if that works better for you,” he grinned.

“No, no, it’s fine,” he opened the door a little wider and gestured for Harry to come in, “As long as you don’t mind the mess…”

He shook his head, “I’m no stranger to that,” he laughed, “My place is only ever clean when family stops in to visit.”

The two of them made their way to the kitchen area of Hamish’s flat and Harry smiled to himself over the state of everything. He had no idea what really into baking, or too much about cooking in general for that matter. He lived on takeout and painfully simple meals. Still, he wondered if baking cookies were supposed to cause this much chaos in a person’s kitchen.

There was a table in the open area between the two parts of the L-shaped counters and Harry took a seat in one of the chairs, careful not to disturb the cooling setup that his neighbor had constructed on the surface of the table. As he looked at everything in front of him, the mess was becoming a bit more understandable--it seemed like there were at least four different types of cookies cooling in front of him. He wasn’t complaining he was just wondering how someone had that much dedication and patience.

“The ones on the bottom are cooled,” he wasn’t looking at Harry, too busy checking on whatever else he had in the oven, “You’ll burn yourself on the top ones.”

Harry knew better than to ignore the friendly warning, but he still wanted to look and see what he would have to be missing out on for the sake of not burning his tastebuds off. When he was done snooping, he leaned back in his chair and carefully plucked one off the bottom shelf. Whatever it was looking delicious and full of chocolate so he didn’t bother to ask any questions.

His eyes noticeably widened as he fought the urge to shove the rest into his mouth all in one bite. He swallowed his first bite and waited for Hamish to turn around and face him. He looked up as he wiped his hands on his apron. He raised his eyebrows curiously, “How’d you like it? That’s a new recipe I tried today.”

“You didn’t happen to go to culinary school before this, did you?”

He laughed, shaking his head, “No, no I didn’t. Just a hobby.”

“I need to find friends with better hobbies than the ones I’ve currently got, then.”

There was a bit of a lopsided smile on his face, “Well, you can always stop in. I usually have something on hand.”

There was a pause as Harry worked his way through another bite, “So do you just...really like baking?”

He shrugged, “Aye. It’s, um, a good stress reliever.”

“You’re more productive than most people with their stress, then.”

“It also forces me to keep working out so I don’t have to get another wardrobe,” his tone was flat but there was a smile fighting its way onto his face.

“Least your hobbies balance each other out then.”

He laughed, “That’s one way to look at it. I always saw it as _if I didn’t do one, I wouldn’t have any need for the other_.”

There was a lull in the conversation as Hamish turned around to finish tending to everything that was still scattered across the counter. Harry sat contentedly at the table and looked around the apartment a bit more, at least what he could see from his vantage point. The place was set up just like his was--it had a living area, and two doors that led to rooms that branched off which he assumed were the bedroom and the bathroom. He enjoyed the whole look and feel of his neighbor’s flat, though. Harry’s didn’t have much in the way of decor in general, let alone enough to have an actual “look”.

The kitchen might’ve been a bit of a mess at the moment but the rest of the place was extremely neat and orderly. There were some stray papers and books, but all that meant was that Hamish was a student that _actually_ did his work. His furniture, for the most part, looked new and sleek. Nothing extremely fancy, but it all coordinated and the sofa and two chairs were the same black fabric which went nicely with the pale grey that all the apartments were painted. He wondered if Hamish styled the room himself or if he had some assistance from his parents. Harry smiled a bit because he could easily tell which end of the couch he usually sat on because all of the pillows were stacked for top-notch back support and his laptop was lying there still open. The rest of the place couldn’t have contrasted more with the mess of a kitchen that they were both in at the moment. It seemed to line up with how they were feeling on the inside, though.

“Do you happen to be trying a new recipe for each assignment you have due in the next two weeks?” Harry smiled.

He laughed, “Might as well. Holiday break can’t get here soon enough. But I also have too much to get done before then.”

“I know the feeling. Four papers and five exams that I’m not looking forward to or prepared for. But at least it gives me an extra reason to look forward to being done.”

“You have anything else to look forward to? Any plans for break?”

Harry managed to keep a straight face as he said, “I am going straight to Hell and not coming back,” he paused, “Yourself? Any plans that don’t involve baking?”

Hamish smiled, “Aye. I intend to vegetate. I’m going to sit on that sofa,” he pointed to the one currently in study-position, “and I’m going to melt into it for the entire month while eating everything that I’m going to be baking these next two weeks.”

As the ovens emptied and Hamish finally ran out of cookie batter, Harry felt like he wasn’t going to need to eat for the rest of the week. They made small talk when Hamish was able to switch the track his mind was on. They talked about majors and possible plans for after they were done with school. Time flew right by as he picked away at cookies and Hamish began to put his kitchen back together again. He was surprised at just how quickly his neighbor was able to clean up and get everything organized. Once all the cookies were cooled he boxed them up and got to wiping down the table and washing the dishes. Harry offered to help, since he was there and enjoying the fruits of Hamish’s labor, but he refused.

“Yer a guest. Maybe next time I’ll let you,” he smiled as he dried off his hands and wiped his glasses, finally able to see clearly out of them for the first time since he started baking.

He looked over at Harry, who was sitting contentedly at the table still marveling at the tupperwares of cookies on the counter. It wasn’t often that he had visitors, but he didn’t mind the fresh dose of company during such a hectic time. If Harry did want to make a return trip or five, Hamish didn’t see himself having much of an issue with it.

“I promise that next time I’ll be a bit more sociable,” he laughed as he untied his apron, “I just get a bit...absorbed.”

“And that’s probably what keeps you from burning the place down, so really, it’s alright.”

There were a few beats of silence before Hamish spoke up again, “I don’t want to keep you too late. We can only procrastinate so long,” he reached and pulled another container out of the cabinet, “But if you’d like, I can send you home with a little bit of everything?”

He nodded excitedly, “Sounds lovely. Not that I’m trying to take all of your work away.”

He was already putting cookies in the box, “There’s going to be plenty more.”

“I’ll be back for refills, then,” the smirk on Harry’s face made Hamish avoid looking at him for a few moments until he felt the heat leave his face.

The two of them walked to the door of Hamish’s flat and he handed the box of cookies over to Harry, “They’re made with care. I always accept feedback.”

“So far I have no complaints,” Harry chuckled, “But I’ll have a full report written up the next time I see you,” he opened the door and stepped out into the hallway.

Hamish leaned on the doorframe, “Looking forward to it.”

**Author's Note:**

> Still getting comfortable with the fact that his name is Hamish. Might end up making a switch over to Merlin (it won't just be a random swap-out but it might still happen) before too long but we'll see! Stay tuned. xox


End file.
